


Don't Forget Your Green Gel

by Croik



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Haunted!Sebastian, Needles, The Upgrade Chair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times that Tatiana helped Sebastian upgrade, and one time he returned the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the time in video game fic I'd rather handwave gameplay mechanics because they're hard to explain in context, but in this case, we're rolling with it! Meant to be very tongue in cheek. Written as a late birthday/Valentines gift for my buddy Del! (and inspired by [her artwork](http://delborovic.tumblr.com/tagged/tatastian) :D)

The mirror shattered, light streamed through, and when Sebastian blinked the spots out of his eyes, he was in the North Ward again.

"Great," he muttered, turning in place. The hallway with its line of locked iron doors stretched out ominously behind him. "Here again."

"You don't sound pleased," said a voice beside him.

Sebastian jumped, whipping about to find the nurse in the red sweater that had greeted him before. He was sure she hadn't been standing next to him a moment ago, but there was no room or adjoining hall she could have approached from. "You," he said, eyeing her suspiciously. He hadn't been able to get a good look at her before, but up close, her skin was flawless, and every soft brown hair neatly tucked. Even the bold stroke of her lipstick seemed impossibly poised. "How did I get back here?"

"I don't know what you mean," she replied coolly, and without looking at him, she strode down the hall, toward the door.

Sebastian fell into step behind her, only because there didn't seem to be anything else he could do. He cast a weary glance at each of the rooms they passed on the way, but each was dark and seemed to be empty. Their hinges were rusted, the wallpaper peeling, and roaches scuttled along the corners of the floor. He had no idea how he had ever mistaken the crumbling facility for a modern hospital.

The nurse led them into the reception area and then took a seat behind her desk. Sebastian waited for her to say something, for a door to open, even for some misshapen hell-beast to attack from behind the counter, but nothing happened. The ward was silent.

"What is this place?" Sebastian asked, leaning against the counter. "Why am I here?"

"I didn't bring you here," said the nurse, not looking up from the stack of papers in front of her. "Why did you come?"

"I didn't—something dragged me here." Sebastian stared at her, waiting for her to lift her head, but she seemed intent on ignoring him. "Or someone. Who's responsible for this?"

"I wouldn't know."

Her apathy was starting to get on Sebastian's nerves, and he reached across the desk, covering her papers. "Stop screwing around," he demanded. "I want to know what the hell is going on, _right now_."

Finally, the nurse looked up. She fixed Sebastian with a long stare, though even then there was no surprise or irritation in her face. Her dark eyes were calm, her porcelain skin flawless—no frown lines in the corner of her mouth, no pinch at the bridge of her nose. The natural arch of her eyebrows prevented her from looking entirely at ease, but there was no mistaking it for any real emotion. She was utterly indifferent to him. It _irked_ him.

"If you're here," she said, "I assume it's because you have green gel to use."

"Green gel...?" Sebastian leaned back, watching with relief as she stood up. At least he might have been getting somewhere. "What's that?"

The nurse sighed. Her nails, red as her lipstick, tapped the desk as she circled around toward him. "The green gel," she repeated. "You haven't already forgotten everything I told you, have you?"

The gate to Sebastian's right squealed as it opened. He turned, and his hairs stood on end at the sight of the chair that lay in the chamber beyond, all creaking metal joints and antique needles. He shuddered. "I'm not getting back in that thing."

"It's for your own good," said the nurse.

She touched the small of his back; the pressure of her fingers just below the hem of his vest straightened his spine, and he very nearly took a step forward in reflex. "No," he said. "I don't think so."

"My my, Detective." She circled around in front of him; he could still feel the imprints of her hand against his side after she'd let her hand fall. "You're not afraid of needles, are you?"

"Of course not." Sebastian glanced to the chair again, bristling, and then back to her. "But the last time you sat me down in that thing, it lit me on fire."

"That wasn't my doing," said the nurse, for a moment sounding almost coy. "I wouldn't expect it to happen again."

"All the same, no thanks."

Sebastian turned away, determined to find a door—or even another mirror, God help him—that would take him somewhere useful. Then the nurse took his wrist. She wasn't strong, but her skin was so much warmer than her eyes that it stopped him in his tracks. "Don't be shy," she said. "If you'd like to be treated another way, you need only ask."

"Treated?" Sebastian shifted his weight uneasily. "Is that what you call what happened in there?"

"It eased your pain, didn't it?" the nurse taunted. She lifted her hand to Sebastian's elbow and guided him through the gate; for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from following. "It reset your ribs, closed the wound in your leg?" Rather than leading him to the chair, however, she opened a door on the left that brought them into the back office. "You mustn't underestimate it."

The office was even darker than the reception area, only a few dim bulbs illuminating the space. Sebastian peered into every shadowed corner, still expecting the undead. "This is nuts," he muttered, but when the nurse urged him to sit down in a wheelchair, he didn't protest. "None of this is making sense. I must be losing my mind...."

"That won't do," the nurse replied, and she moved behind him, taking hold of the handles. "Your mind is the one thing you can't afford to loosen your grip on in here."

"But where _is_ here?"

She wheeled him into a room of lockers, where she set the chair's brakes. Instead of bothering to answer his question, she pulled an old iron key out of the pocket of her sweater and showed it to him. "This is the only one I give you for free," she said, and she used it to unlock the nearest compartment.

Sebastian leaned forward, and his stomach turned when he saw that she was pulling out a very large needle and a bottle of ominous green liquid. "That's what was in that machine," he said, watching her fill the syringe. "You injected me with that before."

"You'll thank me later," she replied, and when the bottle was empty she let it fall, the glass shattering across the tile. Sebastian flinched. "Now hold still, Detective. This will only take a moment."

She took his wrist again, stretching his arm out to display the veins on the inside of his elbow. Sebastian tensed and considered fighting, but the nurse was watching him with such steady attention, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Then the needled pierced him, and his heart beat faster as the mysterious ooze slid into his arm.

He could feel it entering his blood vessels. The gel's warmth coursed through him, up his arm and into his heart, from there fanning out into the rest of him. At first he cringed, dreading a burn of fire or a tingle of numbness, but then the substance reached his brain with a rush of bizarre and tumultuous euphoria. He sucked in a sharp breath as unfamiliar sensations pulsed behind his eyes, clearing the fog from his anxious and weary mind. His battered limbs strained with new energy and the aches in his joins melted away. As little sense as it made, Sebastian felt whole again. He might have even felt stronger than before.

"There," the nurse said quietly, removing the needle. A swipe of her thumb erased the tiny puncture wound. "That wasn't so bad, was it, Detective?"

Sebastian breathed in and out, letting his organs resettle. Once the gel's heat had dissipated, he looked to the nurse, unsure how to put his thoughts in order. Though her face was as unimpassioned as ever, he thought he detected a slight curl in her lip that could have been construed as fondness.

"Castellanos," he said without really thinking. "My name, it's Sebastian Castellanos."

"I know it is," she replied enigmatically, putting the syringe back in its locker. She stepped on the wheelchair's brake release and began wheeling him back toward the front desk.

Sebastian squirmed in the chair. "I can walk," he said, shifting forward.

"Indulge me," the nurse replied, and he had no means to deny her.

They reached the front, and the nurse stopped, allowing Sebastian to stand up for himself. "So uh, thanks, I guess," he said awkwardly. "What's your name?"

"Do you especially want to know?" she asked, retaking her seat behind the counter.

"Well, yeah." Sebastian moved around in front again; somehow it just seemed like he ought to. "You already know who I am." That didn't seem to convince her, so he added, "If I'm going to be back, I'd like to be able to call you by your name."

Tatiana arched an eyebrow at him, and for some stupid reason, his cheeks felt hot. Did she think he was trying to throw her a line? Here in the abandoned psych ward of a nightmare? That a beautiful woman with red lipstick—who he wasn't even fully sure was real—could make him feel like a gangly teenager made less sense that Krimson City grinding itself in circles. Even more bizarre, she answered.

"Tatiana," she introduced herself, with the cultivated indifference of a true expert. "Gutierrez."

"Tatiana," he repeated, and her lips twitched. He wondered, ridiculously, if maybe she liked the sound of her name in his voice. "Nice to meet you. So, um. What happens now?"

"That's no concern of mine," she said, "But if you find yourself in need, you can always come back."

"Oh. Sure." Sebastian shook himself. At least he did feel refreshed. With no other ideas and nothing better to do, he returned to the mirror that had brought him there, and as the white flooded over him again, he awoke back into the countryside nightmare.

_Back to not knowing fuck all about anything_ , he thought, and he hefted his revolver as he continued on.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been so long since Sebastian had looked forward to seeing a woman, he couldn't even identify the sensation at first. It made no sense, obviously. From a country village to the bowels of the asylum to a falling caslte, he was fighting for his life, his partner was all but literally in shambles, ghosts and monsters were on their heels. But when a sweet melody called to him from behind the mirror, he couldn't help but look, and he found himself again in the North Ward.

He was lying on the lumpy bed in "his" room, weak slivers of light peeking in from the hall to partially illuminate the woman seated on the mattress next to him. She was watching him, and it wasn't until the meeting of their eyes made his heart skip that he realized he'd been hoping for this.

"Welcome back, Detective," Tatiana greeted.

"Sebastian," he corrected her automatically. "Hello, Tatiana."

The little tilt of her head was too charming. "Nurse Gutierrez," she corrected him in turn. "Glad to see you all in one piece, for the time being."

She was glad to see him. Was he an idiot for thinking she meant it? A beautiful woman was looking after him, and though given the state of the world lately he should have been suspicious of her, he couldn't work that caution to his forefront. "Same to you," he replied. "I was worried about you."

Tatiana made a quiet sound of amusement that wasn't quite enough to be laughter. "That's sweet," she said, with only a hint of sarcasm. "Did you remember your green gel?"

Sebastian flushed, feeling like a student unprepared before his teacher, before he remembered the vile he'd plucked from a corpse's pocket. He tugged it from his belt and handed it over. "Just this."

Tatiana accepted the vial and turned it back and forth, watching the luminescent green sludge pool back and forth. "My, it's not much, is it?" she said. "But I suppose we'll have to make do."

She pulled the syringe out of her apron. He could have sworn it hadn't been there before, considering its abnormal size. But as she filled it with the gel from his vile, he caught himself licking his lips in anticipation. He told himself that he was looking forward to the drug's healing effects erasing his aches and pains, but it was Tatiana's slender wrists that most firmly drew his attention and she prepared the shot.

When Tatiana was finished, she stood up from the bed. "On your feet, Detective."

Sebastian did as asked, thinking that she meant to take him to the back room again for whatever reason, but instead she handed him the syringe. It was as he was wincing at the thought of injecting himself that she started to unbuckle his belt.

"Whoa—hold on." Sebastian automatically stepped back as his pulse sang through his ears. "What are you doing?"

"A dose this small deserves an intramuscular injection," Tatiana replied coolly. "You'll feel the effects much faster." She stepped forward, putting her right back in his personal space. "And I know the stress you've been putting your body through to get here. All that hunching and creeping." She hooked two fingers over his belt buckle and tugged; his stomach fluttered. "You need release."

Sebastian nearly had to remind himself to keep breathing. His mouth was dry and her gaze held him captive, as if she'd sunk her eyelashes into him. It wasn't until he felt the syringe beginning to slip through his fingers that he woke himself. "Okay," he said dumbly, even though he suddenly had no idea what he was agreeing to. "You're the nurse."

Tatiana looked pleased, and she resumed unfastening his belt. He began to sweat when she unbuttoned his fly, and then her long, soft fingers were inching his shirt up. Her nails tickled his skin. Then her hand was in his pants, measuring out the proper injection site along his hip. Once satisfied, she tugged the waist of his pants down.

"Hold this, please."

Sebastian did so, watching with rapt attention as Tatiana positioned the syringe. As she pierced his skin, however, he looked to her face, and he was glad he did. The needle stung like a sonuvabitch, but watching Tatiana's full lips part with a soft intake of breath was as downright euphoric as the drug entering his system. Heat and energy tightened the muscles beneath her hands, and then it was flowing all through him again, exciting and then soothing his nervous system. But it was seeing Tatiana's pupils dilate slightly that had Sebastian praying his sudden arousal wouldn't show on him any further than the blush in his cheeks.

"There," said Tatiana as she withdrew the needle. She covered the tiny puncture to keep it from bleeding; her palm was impossibly warm against his already flushed skin. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Sebastian needed a moment to make sure that when he spoke next, it wouldn't be utter nonsense dribbling out of his mouth. "Is this the way we're going to do it from now on?" he asked.

Tatiana stretched her fingers tauntingly closer to the curve of his ass. "You'd like that, would you?"

"I wouldn't complain."

She was so close to him. Her mouth was easily in reach of his, and as wildly inappropriate as it probably was, it had been a lifetime since he'd tasted lipstick and he was so tempted. He shifted his weight, leaning in just enough to gauge her reaction. Before any real distance could be crossed, she retrieved her hand from his pants and backed away.

"You ought to go back to it now," Tatiana said, pocketing the syringe. "And next time, bring more green gel."

Sebastian tried to wipe a smirk from his face—he did appreciate a challenge. "All right," he said. "I'll bring buckets."

"I look forward to it," she replied, and when Sebastian blinked, light flashed behind his eyelids and he awoke among medieval ruins, his partner eyeing him with concern.

"Sebastian?" Joseph asked, restlessly adjusting his grip on his axe. "You all right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Sebastian shook himself, startled to realize that his pants were buttoned back up and his belt buckled. Still though, he could feel the sting from the needle in his hip. _Is this all in my head after all?_ With Joseph watching him, he didn't want to dwell on it and slow them down any more. "Sorry. Let's keep moving."


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Sebastian returned to the ward, Tatiana convinced him to try the chair again.

"There's really nothing to be worried about," she said as she secured the straps around his wrists. "It's quite safe."

Sebastian watched with mounting apprehension as she positioned the chair's many syringes. "Then why do I have to be tied up for it?"

Tatiana hummed quietly with amusement and didn't answer. Instead she pushed against Sebastian's chest, urging him to lean into the chair's back. "Relax," she said. She pulled the chair's rickety headpiece down, and though he squirmed, he let her fit it snugly around his crown. The clamps tightening at his temples weren't pleasant, but it was the needles pricking his scalp that put his hair on end. He breathed slowly in and out to keep calm.

"You're really sure this is the best way to do it?" he asked. "I didn't mind the shots...."

"You'll be fine," she assured patiently. When she stroked the line of his jaw he even believed her. "Just close your eyes and trust me. You do trust me, don't you, Detective?"

Sebastian gulped. "Yes," he said, but he realized a moment later he wasn't necessarily thinking with his brain at the moment. "You haven't given me a reason not to so far."

"Good enough." Tatiana moved away, and the room's machinery began to whine and pitch. Sebastian tensed, but then she was back, and her hand on his shoulder eased him. "Close your eyes," she said again. "Take a deep breath."

Sebastian did so. He could feel electricity in the air as the wailing of the machines reached a crescendo, and he waited, on edge and straining, for whatever came next. The needles were first. They jabbed into his forearms, delivering their glowing ooze directly into his veins. As before, the concoction spread heat under his skin, prickling with promises of renewed strength and vigor. Before he had the chance to enjoy it, however, the headpiece flared, electricity jolting through his system. His muscles contracted involuntarily and he rocked against the chair and its bindings, his jaws grinding. But most important was the way his heart pounded in response, speeding the gel throughout his bloodstream. His pulse raced through each capillary and left him ablaze with the drug's energy—he could see it gleaming within his eyelids. It was like taking a shot of adrenaline straight to the chest.

"Holy shit," Sebastian panted. He opened his eyes and could see just a hint of Tatiana beside him from beneath the headpiece. "What was that?"

"There are many ways to administer medication," said Tatiana. She scratched lightly at the back of Sebastian's neck as the machine built up its charge again. "In this case, we opt for the quickest delivery."

The chair hit him with another two-hit: the syringes injected their gel, followed a moment later by the electricity spurring it up and down his body. He tingled all over and a tiny, eager sound caught in his throat. When Tatiana chuckled he flushed with embarrassment, but then she squeezed his shoulder, digging in slightly with her nails.

"I told you so," she whispered.

Her breath tickled his ear. It was such a faint, simple thing when compared to the high of the drug, but it set Sebastian off like nothing else. When the third hit came, he could have sworn he felt the gel gliding straight to his cock, and it swelled eagerly within his slacks. He tried to draw his knees together but he was sure that only made his arousal more obvious. "Yeah," he said, trying to think of anything he could do or say to distract her from it. "Yeah, it's...really something." No good—his brain was spinning in his skull and utterly useless.

Tatiana's hand crept down his chest, and he realized suddenly that not only was trying to hide from her impossible, it was completely unnecessary. "You've been through so much today," she soothed, thumbing the buttons on his vest. When she leaned closer, he could feel her breast pressing into his shoulder; he could even see the dip of her cleavage within his limited view, which he assumed must have been intentional. "You deserve this, Sebastian. You need it."

He couldn't feel her hand anymore. Just as the chair delivered its next injection, it was suddenly back, roughly palming his cock through his slacks. The jolt that followed had him arching into her too-tight grip, groaning through his teeth as he fought back the need to climax right then and there. It had been too damn long, and the shift from teasing to forceful had taken him too much by surprise. But he managed. He pressed back into the chair as he gasped after lost breath.

"Wait." He tugged ineffectively at the wrist restraints. "Wait, just let me...."

"Not yet," said Tatiana. Her hand relaxed and she instead began to stroke him gently as the machinery continued to whine around them. "You haven't finished your dose."

Sebastian shivered. There wasn't much else he could do; he was fully hard and ready to burst, hips pressing instinctually into Tatiana's touch. "Oh God, that feels good," he mumbled, surrendering himself to her. He could hear the chair readying its next round and it made him almost giddy. "Don't stop."

"Don't come," she replied, which only made it that much harder to obey. "Wait for it."

She squeezed his balls all the way through the next hit; Sebastian shuddered with restraint as pleasure coursed all through him and put spots in his eyes. "I can't," he wheezed, squirming in his seat. His muscles were winding tight and eager for release. "I can't hold out much longer."

Tatiana flicked one of the syringes and watched the gel slosh. "There's only one shot's worth left," she said, leaning harder into his body. "Get ready."

Sebastian took a deep breath. It seemed to take forever for the shot to come, and even after the last of the gel was in him, it was another eternity for the electricity to follow. He quivered with the need of it, and when it hit, ecstasy lit him up like fucking Christmas. The throbbing gel in his system, the sizzle in his nerves, Tatiana's sweet voice in his ear and her hand on his cock—he came so hard his head swam, pulse after pulse as he moaned in shameless release. For long, blissful minutes, blistering orgasm seared away the horror of the nightmare. There was only Tatiana, humming an aimless melody as she loosened the straps on his wrists.

"Very good, Detective," she said, moving in front of him so he could remove both sets of syringes at once. She pressed hard to keep the punctures on each arm from bleeding; he could feel her knees against his. "Didn't I tell you it would be worth it?"

Sebastian licked his lips; he needed a moment to catch his breath before he could speak. "Holy Jesus," he muttered. He tried to free his hands so he could remove the headpiece and see her, but her grip tightened, preventing him. "If I'd known it came with a happy ending...."

"Don't let it go to your head," she said slyly. "It's only because you brought me so much to work with."

"Well hell, next time I'll fill a tanker." Sebastian squirmed; fingers of pleasure we still plucking his strings, but embarrassment was starting to creep in as well. A woman paid him some attention and he'd creamed his pants like a damn high schooler. Not that he considered it avoidable. "You gonna let me up so I can pay you back?"

"Oh?" Tatiana leaned forward, one knee pressing against the inside of his thigh. "What makes you think I'm interested?"

Sebastian tried not to make a face. Somewhere back in his brain he knew there was a smooth response to that, but he was still seeing stars and he had no hopes of approaching suave. "Well," he said. "You did just get me off." He wriggled his fingers. "It's only fair that I—"

"You don't have to give a thought to me," Tatiana interrupted him, and she leaned back again, her nails dragging across his skin as she disengaged. "You have much more important things to be worry about here."

She stepped back. Her heels clapped only twice and then the room fell entirely silent. With his hands finally free, Sebastian reached up to loosen and then remove the headpiece himself. He wasn't surprised to find himself alone. As he shifted forward, still a little dazed and even disappointed, the entire ward seemed to grow darker and colder with her gone. "Tatiana?" He pushed slowly to his feet. "Seriously? After all that, you just...."

No reply. He felt like a fool for expecting one. "Hard to get," he told himself as he wiped the sweat off his forehead and then undid his pants. "Castellanos, what are you doing?" But despite all that, he couldn't help but smirk to himself as he searched the ward, desperate to find something to clean up with.


	4. Chapter 4

It was so much worse than even Sebastian had expected after watching Joseph go through it. Ruvik's poison throbbed all through his veins, bursting through the cracks in his skin. His entire body felt like it was boiling and any moment all his organs would ooze straight out of him. He looked to Kidman, told her to run. God, he was so afraid he'd hurt her. She replied with a gunshot. He felt the sting, and then, he awoke in the ward.

He was stretched out on the bed again, but this time, there was nothing welcoming or alluring about his stay. Ruvik's poison hadn't left. His insides were still roiling with fire and his vision swimming, his entire world bitter agony. He fought, not because he thought it would do any good, but because his limbs were beyond his control—thrashing, clawing, numbing themselves beneath biting restraints. He'd been strapped down to the bed.

"Once again, detective," greeted Tatiana, "you appear to be in less than ideal condition."

She glided into the room with her usual ease, not a hair out of place, not even a sliver of sympathy. She might have even been amused, and she watched Sebastian's mindless struggles for a time, silently. Her steady gaze made the poison in his blood bubble and pop, and within him rose a terrible urge to sink his teeth into her. It was hunger and hate, and despite his bondages he tried to reach for her.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do to relieve your suffering," she said. "But I suppose I can stay here with you, if you like."

She touched his wrist just above the restraints, and he growled all through his teeth, twisting and wrenching to try to reach her. "That sounded like a yes," she said.

Tatiana withdrew her hand, and he despised her for it. She reached down, her long-nailed fingers drawing up the folds of her white skirt. With impossibly delicacy she slipped out of her shoes and climbed up onto the bed. Sebastian writhed beneath her but she didn't seem to care, lowering herself to settle over his hips.

And there she stayed. Sebastian held his breath, fighting against the vulgar instincts Ruvik had pumped through him in hopes that she would think better of whatever she was doing and take herself from danger. But she stayed, watching him with brown-eyed apathy, neither afraid that he would hurt her nor willing to assist. She only stayed, and watched, and straightened her back.

Sebastian couldn't fight anymore—he reached for her. If only he could have gotten her beneath his hands he would have _devoured_ her, so great was his need. He bruised his wrists against the straps as he stretched and clawed, managing only to catch the hem of her skirt. The fabric clenched between his fingers sent his pulse racing, and like a beast he howled and bucked, his skin bursting. When her weight shifted against his hips it fueled a desire like bloodlust, and he thrust against her. The restraints preventing him from accomplishing much more than a gentle jostle, however, and watching her remain unmoved was torture. All his attempts to coax her to rhythm failed.

_Fucking do something_ , he thought with as little focus as he was able to muster, and Tatiana tilted her head as if she'd heard him, but she didn't respond. No matter how he fought and scratched nothing would move or dislodge her, leaving only the heat of her body weighing against his eager cock, taunting him.

"Don't worry, detective," said Tatiana, parting her knees just wide enough that he could dig his fingernails into her calf. If he'd had his voice, he would have begged for blood. "It will all be over soon."

Sebastian awoke with a jolt. He was covered in goosebumps and patches of his skin were sore from where the boils had broken through. Though still restrained at least he could wiggle his fingers normally, and the poison had abated, along with the wrath. Slowly, he regained his breath and looked around.

Tatiana was seated in the chair beside his bed, smoothing out her skirt. So looked so damnably poised Sebastian found it hard to believe that he had ever managed to touch her. He took a breath to speak, but as he shifted, he realized that not every mark of his brief captivity had faded: he was still hard, bulging against his trousers. There was no hiding it.

_Not that that really matters at this point_ , Sebastian thought, watching the truly disinterested side-eye Tatiana was casting his way. _It's not like I can embarrass her. If she's still here_ …. "What happened to me?" he asked.

"You were unwell," Tatiana said unhelpfully. "But you seem to be… _much_ better, now."

Even after their already strange liaisons Sebastian felt himself blush a little, and he gulped. "Then I probably owe that to you. Thank you." His attention darted downward, but her legs were fully covered by her skirt. "Sorry, if I hurt you."

"You didn't," she replied, as if the notion were preposterous. She pushed to her feet and stepped closer. "Though that doesn't mean I didn't feel it."

Tatiana laid her hand on Sebastian's chest, and his heart gave a thud. As she continued her slow progress from the room her fingers drifted down the lines of his vest, over his stomach, his belt, coming to rest gently over his un-hideable erection. Sebastian held his breath. With just a turn of her wrist and a subtle squeeze he was entirely at her mercy and ready to beg. But then she continued on, teasing the inside of his thigh, swirling his knee.

"I think you need some time to recuperate," she said, giving his ankle a pinch before finally moving out of range. "Rest up, Detective Castellanos."

Sebastian tingled, still light-headed enough that he couldn't cobble together a reply until she was at the door. "Wait, really?" he called, pushing up against the restraints as best he could to try to see her. "You're just leaving me here?"

"Just until you cool down." Tatiana's lip curled in what might have been a smile as she showed herself out. "It'll be good for you." She closed the door behind, fitting the lock.

Sebastian flopped onto his back once more. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered. He tried to stretch his hands toward his groin, but the cuffs were too tight, and no amount of squirming got him within reaching distance. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

There didn't seem to be anything he _could_ do, so he gave up, glaring up at the ceiling, alone with his boner until whenever Tatiana worked up the inclination to retrieve him.


End file.
